I Left My Heart in Seattle
by See Jane Write
Summary: Frasier starts his job in San Francisco, but he can't help but wonder if things are a little too familiar. Chapter Three up. Complete, for now.
1. The Radio Station

I Left My Heart in Seattle

Frasier Crane drew in a deep breath. This was it. It was his first day at his San Francisco job. The building was right in front of him. It was larger than the KACL building, and Frasier felt out of place. He exhaled and walked inside.

He glanced around the lobby for a second before spotting the elevators. According to his agent Bebe Glazer, his new producer would be waiting for him there. Frasier pushed the 'up' button. Seconds later the door opened.

As expected, there was someone in the elevator. The woman was a bit younger than Frasier expected, but age had nothing to do with experience. The woman had dirty blond hair and was dressed in a jean skirt and a green peasant top. "Are you Dr. Frasier Crane?" the woman asked.

"Why, yes I am," Frasier said as he entered the elevator. "Am I to assume that you are my new producer?"

"I'm your producer all right, but I'm not new," the woman announced as she hit the 'door close' button on the elevator. "I've been in radio for ten years." She finally extended her right hand to Frasier. "Rose Coyle, nice to meet you," she introduced herself.

Frasier blinked twice. "Rose Coyle?" he questioned as he absent-mindedly shook her hand.

"You've heard of me?" Rose asked curiously.

Frasier shook his head. "Not to my knowledge, but your name sounds familiar."

Rose shrugged as the elevator opened on their floor. "Maybe we slept together," she suggested casually as she exited.

"I doubt that's it," Frasier informed her with a slightly disgusted tone in his voice. He followed her down the white-linoleum-tiled floor towards the studio. "It's not you personally. Just your name."

Rose shrugged again. "Suit yourself. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone we might have slept together," she assured Frasier.

"We have not slept together!" Frasier exclaimed loudly. "Unlike some people, I tend to remember the women with whom I have had sexual intercourse."

"Ok, ok," Rose said as she kept walking. "I get it." She glanced at the clock in one of the office rooms. "Ok, we've still got over an hour before you're on the air," she informed Frasier. "The station manager Lenny Faley would like to meet you before hand if that's ok with you."

"Lenny Faley?" Frasier questioned.

Rose nodded. "Yes," she said as she picked up her pace a little. "Don't worry. He's a pretty easy-going guy."

At that moment, a shorter man appeared from a doorway. His eyes instantly fell on Rose. "You're looking more beautiful than ever," he said. "I'll count the days until you'll be my Princess Leia."

Rose's cheeks blushed slightly as she grasped Frasier's hand and began walking at a quicker pace. Once the two of them had rounded the corner, Frasier spoke. "Who was that?"

"Cole Dempsky," Rose said with disgust. "The most annoying person at this station. He constantly flaunts his two biggest obsessions - ­_Star Wars_ and me."

Frasier blinked twice again. "Next you'll be telling me you have another on-air talent who refers to himself as the name of a canine," he muttered.

"Oh, you know Boxer?"


	2. The Coffee House

Frasier was relieved when his show had finally ended for the day. He could go home. He sighed heavily as he began exiting the building. This whole day had been a little too freaky for his liking. He looked across the street and spotted a small coffee shop - Café Tensa. Frasier simply rolled his eyes, but decided he wanted something to drink.

He looked both ways and, once it was clear, he darted across the street. The warmth overwhelmed him as he walked up to the counter. There were still a few people in front of him, so he had time to decide what exactly he wanted to drink.

He smiled at the young couple in front of him. The male was a bit younger than Frasier, and he was very thin. His arm was wrapped around his girlfriend/wife's shoulders. There was a small baby car seat around the woman's left arm.

The infant in the seat dropped something, a small blanket, and Frasier bent down to pick it up. "Here," he said gently as he handed it to the male.

"Thank you," the man said kindly as he placed the blanket back on top of the baby. He then looked back at Frasier and extended his right hand in greeting. "Miles Heron," he introduced. "This is my wife Velma and our three-month-old Lynn."

Frasier smiled as he shook Miles' hand. "Frasier Crane, nice to meet you," he said sincerely. The three of them stepped up to the counter to order. Frasier glanced around at the crowded café. "Would it be a burden if I sat with you?" he asked a moment later.

"Absolutely not," Velma answered immediately. She then turned back around at Frasier. "Wait, are you Dr. Frasier Crane? The one from the radio?" she asked.

"Guilty," Frasier admitted. "Decaf latte," he told the waiter behind the counter. Moments later, he had his drink.

Velma smiled. "I just heard your show," she said as she began walking over to an empty table. "You know, my husband is a psychiatrist, too," she said as she placed the baby seat down on the chair next to hers.

"No, I'm a real psychiatrist," Miles corrected as he sat down on the other side of the baby after wiping off his seat with a small cloth from his suit pocket. "No offense, but I hate how radio shrinks destroy our good reputation," he said as he began blowing on his coffee.

Frasier rolled his eyes again. "You sound like my brother," he pointed out. "Also a psychiatrist," he added. He sighed, not really wanting to think about his family back in Seattle. Thinking of them would only make him miss them more, and he did not want to do that in front of what might possibly be his first new friends in San Francisco. "So, how did you two meet?" he asked in attempt to change the topic.

"Actually, Velma was my father's physical therapist," Miles answered. "I adored her for years before working up the nerve to tell her how I felt about her."

Frasier nearly spit his drink out of the table. Small droplets rolled down his chin, and he wiped them off quickly with a napkin. "Spooky," he said.

"What, did you meet your wife in the same manner?" Miles asked curiously.

Frasier shook his head as he placed the napkin down on the table. "No, not exactly. My first wife was a children's performer, but that only lasted a few months. My second wife was another psychiatrist, and we actually realized our attraction during a psychology talk show one day." He blushed slightly. "It was not the best place, but it happened. It doesn't matter now. We divorced years ago, and I haven't been married since." He sighed heavily again before taking another sip of his drink to clear his head.

"That still doesn't explain the spooky," Miles pointed out. He blew on his coffee again before giving Frasier a confused look.

Frasier sighed. "I don't know if I'm really ready to explain that yet. I just moved here, and I came to start fresh. Until I'm positive it was the right choice, I don't really want to talk about myself or my family."

Velma smiled sweetly at him. "That's perfectly understandable," she assured Frasier. She glanced down at her watch. "Oh, we better get going if we want to meet your father and Conee for dinner," she pointed out. She turned to Frasier. "His father just remarried a few weeks ago. It's the sweetest thing."


	3. The Package

Chapter Three

Frasier was relieved when he finally made it to his apartment. Luckily the doorman at his building did not remind him too much of the doorman at his old building. Frasier sighed as he walked over to the elevators. He stepped inside and was about to hit his floor when he heard someone calling for him to hold it. He shrugged and hit the 'Door open' button.

The woman frantically rushed into the elevator. "Thank you," she said as she closed the door. "What floor?" she asked curiously.

"Nineteen," Frasier responded without thinking.

The woman eyed him oddly. "Sir, this is a ten story building," she informed him gently. "Are you sure this is the right place?"

"Oh, right," Frasier said with slight embarrassment. "Um, nine. I meant nine."

"Me too," the woman exclaimed. "My name's--"

"Don't," Frasier interrupted. "I'm sorry. You seem like a very nice woman, but if you only knew the day I've been having. It's time to put it out of its misery."

The woman nodded sympathetically. "I understand. Well, if you do want to meet me, I'm in apartment 905," she informed Frasier. The elevator stopped on the ninth floor to let the two of them out. "See you around."

Frasier nodded and walked down the hall to his own apartment room, 901. As he approached the door, he noticed a small package outside. "Odd," he said aloud as he picked it up and walked inside the small yet elegantly decorated apartment. He smiled as he saw the return address. Roz. His Roz. Finally he had something to brighten his day.

Like a child on Christmas, Frasier eagerly ripped the package open. He tore through the packing peanuts until he found the contents of the package. He chuckled slightly. He could not help it. Inside the box was a stuffed cockatoo with an abnormally large beak. Around its neck was a handwritten note from Roz.

_Hey, Fras. Good luck on your first week at the new job. Remember if you can't find a good producer, a cockatoo with a large beak can do what I do. Call me when you get a chance. I miss you._

_Roz_

"I think I will," Frasier told himself as he placed the stuffed bird down on his coffee table. He then walked over to his phone and dialed Roz's number. She answered after the third ring. "Hey, Roz, it's Frasier," he greeted her.

Roz smiled from the other end. "Hey there," she said as she sat back on her couch. "Can I assume that you got my package?"

"Yes, very funny," Frasier commented. He sighed tragically. He missed her. He missed her a lot. "Oh, Roz, if you only knew the day I had. It was so weird. Like for instance, my new producer…"


End file.
